Foolish Girl

She sees him from across a field of wildflowers. His face lights up the distance between them. She knows they are meant to be.

Now he is carrying her up to a secret room, his smiling eyes never removing themselves from her face. Her pretty face. A pretty face on a pretty girl.

She cannot believe her good fortune. Like a dream, she is in the arms of her only love. Her love with eyes as soft and gentle as the calm sea. Hands strong and firm. A handsome face for her to admire for the rest of her days.

She stares at him, taking in his robust form with eyes dark and deep with desire. Eyes for him. Only for him. Her sun.

He praises her beauty. Her perfect, golden skin. Soft, wild hair. Dainty lips meant to share in his sweet kisses forever.

Pretty words offered to a pretty girl.

She closes her eyes and basks in the warmth provided by his embrace. She feels his arms slacken, and she raises her head to see him pull away and turn his back to her. A pair of ladies approaches him, giggling. Escorting one on each arm, he joins in their laughter and praises their beauty as they walk away into the sunset.

She sits there, shivering. The warmth from him gone. Left in the cold wake of a dying star.

Foolish girl.